


Dancing With My Own Shadow

by marvellingyou (tourmalinex)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bisexual Steve Rogers, Captain America Steve Rogers/Modern Bucky Barnes, Embedded Images, Everyone is a good bro, First Date, First Kiss, Frottage, Gay Bucky Barnes, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Modern Bucky Barnes, Shrunkyclunks, Shrunkyclunks Big Bang 2019, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Strangers to Lovers, flowershop au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-27 04:01:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19782829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tourmalinex/pseuds/marvellingyou
Summary: Once a week, without fail, Steve Rogers visits his departed beloved’s grave. While he dreams of the past and wishes that time had been kind, Bucky Barnes, owner ofBlooming Aster, is waiting to lead Steve towards the future.





	1. Chapter 1

__

_Blooming Aster_ , named after the flower that Ancient Greeks called a star. The shop itself had been open since 1983, under the tender love and care of Salazar Bautista. The old man believed that everyone deserved to experience a moment of happiness, even if it was just from a single flower. When Bucky came back home to Brooklyn from his tour in Afghanistan with honorable discharge, Sal was one of the few people outside the Barnes family to understand the emptiness that filled him to the brim. Or at least, Sal was the only one who talked about it with Bucky. 

“You become a stranger.” Sal smiled bitterly. “You see some things stay the same _pero_ … some things, no. They change, and then you see you can’t go back.”

Bucky nodded, sweeping the floor, which proved to be more difficult than he remembered, even with a prosthetic arm. 

“You’re a man out of time,” Sal continued. “Can’t go back to what you knew. You can only move on.” Sal stayed in Brooklyn for another three years, making sure that Bucky was ready to man _Blooming Aster_ on his own. 

“Durango is my home.” The old man wiped his eyes with a handkerchief. “When Francesca, _mi vida_ , died, I wanted to go back with her body. But I needed someone who could care for this place. It was our home for forty years. You’re a kind young man who has known pain. Don’t forget to smile at least once a day, even if for an ounce of joy.”

A good night’s rest was ruined by the alarm blaring from Bucky’s phone. With an annoyed groan, he rolled over in his bed, groping around until he felt the screaming rectangle from hell. He brought it to his face, squinting at the brightness around him, grumbling at the blinding 6:45 AM staring right back at him. As always, it took an extra ten minutes to fight against the desire to stay in bed, have the shop closed for the day. But Fridays were a nice reminder that the weekend was several hours away.

Breakfast was always a quiet affair. He needed time to fully wake up, and two cups of coffee were vital. Afterward, he cooked two eggs—sunny-side up—and buttered two pieces of toast. By the time Bucky finished eating and washing his plate, it was 7:20 AM. He had a full forty minutes before he had to open the shop, giving him time to fix up the store display and to double check the inventory. 

The flow of customers was always slow, not that Bucky minded. Thanks to his vigilant budgeting and some social media success, there was a steady stream of customers. But out of all of them, one in particular perplexed Bucky.

_There he is._

Steve, who up until two weeks ago, Bucky referred to as “Blonde Babe,” came in around the usual time, half past ten. Sometimes they’d make small talk, not that Bucky minded. However, he wanted something more, to have an actual conversation rather than talk about the weather or how the Mets lost, _again_ . But was it his place? He knew _nothing_ about Steve except for the fact that he’s buying flowers every week. Does he like flowers that much? Were they for someone? They had to be, given the wistful expression Steve whenever he bought them. 

As Steve approached the counter, Bucky gave him a small wave. “Let me guess,” Bucky said with a smile. “A bouquet of tulips?”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. Nice that you remembered.”

Bucky nodded, grabbing a handful of tulips by the stems. He brought them to the counter, placing them gently on top of a pile of wrapping paper. The paper itself was simple, as the flowers spoke for themselves. They didn’t need fanfare when they stood beautifully on their own. “She must be a lucky gal, gettin’ all these flowers every week.” When he looked up at Steve, he was met with a frown.

“I… um. I go to the cemetery,” he said quietly. “It’s just that she meant a lot to me.”

 _Good job, Barnes_ . _You and your fucking big mouth._

“I’m… I’m so sorry.” Bucky tied the bouquet together with thin a ribbon with trembling fingers. “I just assumed—”

“—it’s okay, really.” Steve offered a small smile, but it didn’t ease Bucky’s guilt. Why did he have to be such an assuming asshole? “You couldn’t have known.”

“I shouldn’t have said anything.” Bucky tapped the POS (piece-of-shit) screen, typing in the total. “Did she… pass away recently?” He bit his lower lip. _You’re not friends. Stop talking. Stop being so stupid. What the hell is wrong with you?_ “Actually, you don’t have to answer. It’s none of my business.”

“Like I said, it’s okay.” Steve picked up the bouquet, holding the flowers with reverence. “Yeah, she did.”

“I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t worry about it. $12 even, right?”

Bucky shook his head. “On the house today.” Before Steve could pull out his wallet and protest, Bucky insisted once more. “Today’s free. So… see you next week?” He mentally berated himself for being such a foot-in-the-mouth. _For the love of all things decent just shut up already._

“Yeah. But I’m paying next time.” 

If Bucky still believed in God, he’d ask Him to strike him down with lightning.

* * *

Steve never found cemeteries to be unnerving. If anything, there was subtle tranquility, knowing that while those underneath were at rest, their loved ones still visited. Once in a while, Steve would run into one of Peggy’s children, and they’d talk—although Steve mostly listened. He wanted to know about Peggy’s life after he crashed into the ice, and while Steve wished he could have been there, he settled for stories.

“I’m getting better at dancing,” he said quietly. “I still can’t manage a foxtrot and I’m terrible at doing the tango, but I can waltz. Better than nothing, right?” Steve never needed a response. Just being close to Peggy, to be six feet apart, was enough for now. And yet, there would always be a profound longing for what could never be.

“There’s still so much I wanted to tell you,” Steve said, his eyes stinging with tears. “I wish we had the time, even if it’s just for one conversation where you didn’t forget me after a few minutes. I know it wasn’t your fault, Pegs, but it hurt to lose you twice.” He pressed the palms of his hands to his eyes and slowly inhaled. Regaining composure was never easy, but Steve had to. At least, he felt that he needed to.

“It’s okay to let it out, y’know.”

Steve sniffled as he turned around. Somehow, both Natasha and Sam knew where to find him, whether it be here at the cemetery or well, anywhere else in all of New York.

“How are you holdin’ up?” Sam asked. 

“Fine,” Steve replied, his eyes and nose still red. 

“We have another mission.” Natasha knelt down and touched Peggy’s headstone in reverence. “They need us in a few hours for debriefing.”

“Alright.” Steve’s shoulders dropped as his eyes focused back on the ground where Peggy was resting. “I loved her,” he said quietly. “I loved her so much.”

Both Sam and Natasha nodded, smiling with empathy. They both experienced loss, though they understood that for Steve, the man out of time, loss was on another scale. He lost his brothers in arms to time, he lost the possibility of living a normal life, he lost the chance to tell the woman he loved how he felt, and if SHIELD had their way with him, he could lose his identity as Steve Rogers. He’d only ever be Captain America. There was so much weight on Steve’s shoulders, and all Sam and Natasha wanted to do was share the burden with him, to keep him from crumbling under the weight.

“We know,” Natasha said, placing her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “We know.”

“She wanted me to live my life, but I’m not sure I know how.” Steve smiled with bitterness. “I wouldn’t even know what to do. The guy that wanted a simple life and a family died, and now I’m just here.”

“Remember what I said before,” Sam reminded him. “Find something that makes you happy. You can do anything you want, even if it means starting from scratch. As far as we know, we get one life. I can’t imagine what it felt like to wake up in a new century, but you also got a second chance.”

“And you’re not alone. Some of us are in the same boat, too,” Natasha pointed out. “So we’ll keep each other company while we figure this out, okay?”

Steve inhaled deeply, then slowly exhaled.

“Okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, hello! This is my entry for the Shrunkyclunks Big Bang 2019! I've been so excited to share this fic, and I hope that you enjoy it! Since it's nine chapters, three will be posted each day. The title comes from [Slow and Steady](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uRyRymflxtU) by Of Monsters and Men
> 
> I want to give a shoutout to HeyBoyDraws, whose art is so beautiful I'm still reeling! Please check out their [tumblr](https://heyboydraws.tumblr.com/) and give them a follow! 
> 
> You can follow me on [tumblr](https://marvelling-you.tumblr.com) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/queerestblues)!
> 
> Comments and kudos water my crops!


	2. Chapter 2

The best decision Bucky made when he inherited the shop was hiring two new part-time employees, Benny and Teresa. While he didn’t mind being Sal’s only employee, at least Sal still had some vigor. On his own, Bucky couldn’t imagine running _Blooming Aster_ on his own—at least, not every day of the week. Both of them were college students with their own lives, not that Bucky minded. If anything, they provided entertainment in the form of re-telling college antics. Between Benny’s ROTC misadventures and Teresa’s attempts to make both of them join her rallies and protests, there was never a dull day.

“Corporal, what the hell are you doing?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow at Benny.

“I’m preparing the tulips, sir!” Benny saluted. “It’s almost 10:30, sir. The flowers need to be prepared for extraction!”

“You’re such an idiot,” Teresa said, trimming excess leaves off of the new shipment of roses. 

“That doesn’t mean you need to get it ready right now. He might want something else.”

Benny shrugged, still hovering around the flowers. Sure enough, Steve came into the store on time. Bucky greeted him with a small smile—one that Steve returned.

“Let me guess,” Bucky said. “Tulips?”

“Yeah.” Steve pulled out his wallet, thumbing through some bills “Can you throw in a bouquet of sunflowers, too?”

“Of course.” Bucky turned towards Benny, who gave him a knowing nod. As he punched in the total for a bouquet, his fingers hesitated as his eyes flickered from side to side. Truth be told, Bucky still felt like a jackass for last week. Even if Steve said it was okay, the conversation kept playing over and over again. He needed to make it up to him.

“Your total today is $12 even.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “How? I’m getting two bouquets? And I told you I’m paying this week for the tulips.”

“I said you had to pay. Didn’t say it’d be the tulips.” Bucky shrugged. “Besides, you get those every week. Call it a loyalty discount.”

“You’re not gonna let this go, are you?” Steve asked, the corners of his lips pulling into a smirk. Bucky swallowed thickly—those lips were downright sinful. God, he was so _fucked_.

“Of course not. You’ve been coming here every Friday for what, the past three months?” He offered Steve a small smile in return. “From now on, it’s gonna be $9 per bouquet, alright?”

“Thank you.” 

As Steve walked out the door, Bucky heard a pair of chuckles behind him.

“What’s so funny?” Bucky asked, turning towards Benny and Teresa. 

“Loyalty discount my ass!” Benny blurted out. “You’re totally into him!”

“I mean, who isn’t?” Teresa pointed out. “Captain America is _hot_.”

Wait, _what_? Bucky’s brain short-circuited at Teresa’s words. “Captain… America?”

The young employees’ eyes widened. 

“You mean… you didn’t _know?!”_ Benny practically screamed. “You gotta be shittin’ me, Sarge! How could you _not_ know he’s Captain America?!”

“There are over two million people in Brooklyn alone,” Bucky squawked. “I don’t have the time or attention span to notice who comes into the store!” 

“He was probably too busy makin’ goo-goo eyes and keepin’ himself together,” Teresa said. “It’s easy to get lost in those gorgeous blue eyes. I mean, that _stare_.”

Benny snickered. “Not to mention that _ass_. You could probably bounce quarters off of—”

“—get back to work!” Bucky shouted, both his cheeks and his ears burning from embarrassment. “Benny, finish up inventory and for fuck’s sake, Teresa, fix the display.”

“Sir, yes sir!”

“Aye-aye, Sarge!”

Bucky sat down at the register and let his upper body fall, his head thudding against the counter. Not only did he have a crush on a customer, but goddamn Captain Fucking America. _Mother of hell._ He was truly, truly fucked.

* * *

After filling Peggy in on his week, Steve rode his bike back to Brooklyn to visit his mother. He thought of her often—her determination, her kindness, her empathy. She loved her job as a nurse, and although she was aware of the risk, Sarah didn’t bat an eye when she was assigned to the TB Ward. Sarah went to work every day until she caught the cursed disease. Steve admired her, almost to the point of worship, but Sarah still had her flaws. It wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to say that Steve inherited his mother’s stubbornness—the difference being that with age, Sarah learned to pick her battles. But if her stories were anything to go by, Sarah and Joseph were rebels together, defying what their parents wanted from them. She was a troublemaker, just like him. 

As a mother, Sarah did her damndest to take care of him. But medicine meant money, and money meant picking up more shifts. Of course, all of that meant Steve would be left alone, with a neighbor that occasionally checked in on him. He never resented her for leaving him alone, not for a single second. 

He carefully stepped past over plots until he reached his parents. Steve felt a twinge of guilt for not getting flowers for his father, but quickly rectified his mistake by splitting the bouquet, so they both would have sunflowers.

“Hey ma, hey dad,” Steve said, placing the flowers next to both of them. “It’s been a while. There’s been a lot happening lately.”

The first time he visited his parents since he woke up in the 21st century, he talked, mainly about how strange yet convenient the future became—and aliens, who knew they’d be real? He noted how much Brooklyn changed, how much technology had advanced so that the world was in your pocket, and how he was a little disappointed that flying cars weren’t a thing yet.

“But they have cars that drive themselves,” he told them. “I think. Or they’re working on it? The world is a little confusing.”

_But I wish you were here to see it._

“My friends keep teasing me about my age.” He let out a small chuckle. “Technically, I’m a century old. I don’t feel it, but at the same time, I do. ”

Steve’s shoulders dropped.

“It’s not going to be for a long while,” he said quietly. “But I can’t wait to see you again, ma. And I can’t wait to meet you, dad.”

As he left the cemetery, Steve wondered when that day would come.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it for today, folks! I'll update the fic tomorrow evening!

The past week had been hell. Bucky spent most nights tossing and turning, still reeling from the realization that he had it bad for Captain America. Despite Benny and Teresa’s assurance that a lot of people had a crush on Steve Rogers, Bucky couldn’t help but feel, well, strange. Before he was told that Steve was _that_ Steve, he was just a customer that Bucky hoped to ask out for a cup of coffee. But now, that was a dream that won’t come true.

“Hey, _viejo_ ,” Teresa said, waving a hand in front of Bucky’s face. He was sitting by the counter, staring off into space before Teresa interrupted him. “What’s wrong with you?”

Bucky heaved a sigh, propping his elbows on the counter. “Nothin’, Tere.”

“Bullshit.” Teresa swatted his shoulder. “C’mon, boss. Tell the great Teresa what’s ailing you.”

Benny snorted. “As if you can solve everyone’s problems.”

“I resent that.” She placed her hands on her hips. “But for real, your mopey attitude is contagious. Whatcha thinkin’ about?”

“Is it Captain America?” Benny asked, noting Bucky’s scowl. “Yup, it’s Captain America.”

Bucky shrugged. “I don’t know, you guys. I—”

“—this place is… cozy. Is cozy the right word?”

The three looked up, seeing Steve, who arrived at his usual time. However, he wasn’t alone. At least this time, Bucky recognized who walked into his shop.

“Knock it off, Tony,” Steve said, elbowing the other man’s side. He flashed his “Captain America is disappointed in you” face, making Tony go from snickering to a full-on belly laugh. As the two approached the counter, Bucky stood up and smoothed out his apron, much to Benny and Teresa’s amusement.

“Hey, Buck.”

 _Buck_? Oh god, that’s new and it made Bucky weak in the knees. He wanted to seem composed, cool, collected. However, Bucky’s cracking voice betrays him.

“H-Hey, Steve.” Bucky coughed, trying to clear his throat. “The usual?”

“Yeah. Can you make it two?”

“Of course.” Bucky didn’t need to turn around—he could hear either Benny or Teresa working on the bouquet. As Steve dug his hand in his pocket to pull out his wallet, Tony put his hand on Steve’s forearm. Something about how gentle and familiar the action was stirred something within Bucky. He pictured himself in Tony’s place, offering to pay, maybe paying for a gift or a meal. But he shook his head, ridding himself of the fantasy. 

“I got this,” Tony insisted. “It’s not every day I get to visit my favorite aunt. So how much do I owe you?"

“Your total comes to $24,” Bucky deadpanned. His eyes wandered over towards Steve, who looked confused, but accepted it when Bucky shrugged. Tony Stark could afford $24. After all, it was Steve who had the discount, not him. 

Tony didn’t seem too bothered, handing over his card to Bucky. As he punched in the total, Benny walked up to the counter and placed down the bouquets.

“Alright, you’re all set.” Bucky returned the card to Tony as Steve grabbed the tulips. 

“See you next week, Bucky.”

“Have a good one.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, hearing Teresa snickering from behind him.

“What happened to the ‘loyalty discount,’” Teresa asked, using air quotes for emphasis. Benny snorted as Bucky struggled through several false starts.

“Steve wasn’t paying,” he replied. “The discount is only for when he pays.”

“Whatever you say, boss,” Benny said, exasperated. 

As Bucky tucked a few loose strands of hair behind his ear, he smiled softly. He was just happy to see Steve again.

* * *

Going to the cemetery with Tony was strange, but not unpleasant. When they first arrived at her grave, Tony immediately apologized for not visiting his “dear ol’ Aunt Peggy” sooner. Both he and Steve swapped stories and apparently, she hadn’t changed one bit—Peggy remained a strong-willed woman. 

However, the mood changed when Tony brought up Steve’s love for Peggy. While Steve tried to change the subject, Tony wouldn’t have it. He wanted Steve to live a little, to meet more people. 

“They have dating apps,” Tony pointed out. “You can literally meet anyone.”

“I don’t know,” Steve said. “Call me old fashioned.”

“C’mon, Rogers. Times have changed—you can date a guy if you want.”

Steve shrugged. “That’s not the problem.”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “So you like guys then?”

“Men and women,” he answered. 

“Y’know…” Tony said, smirking. “I think that the flower shop guy has a thing for you.”

“Excuse me?” Steve’s eyes widened. Bucky _might_ have a thing for him? He felt a heat spreading across his cheeks. He didn’t think much about Bucky—not that he _didn’t_ think about him. Bucky was easy on the eyes and from the small talk they had, he seemed to be a nice person.

“What makes you say that?”

“He looked at you a certain way.” Tony gave Steve a crooked smile. “Like he wanted to be all over you.”

“N-No he didn’t,” Steve stammered. “Even if he did, it’s not like I’d know what to do.”

“Indulge me. What would be the problem?” Tony crossed his arms over his chest. “The next time you see him, flirt a little. Lay on some of the Rogers’ charm.”

“Rogers’ charm?” Steve let out a sad chuckle. “I could barely flirt with Peggy.”

Tony frowned. “You can’t be serious.”

“Have you _seen_ what I used to look like?” He winced, thinking back before he took part in Project: Rebirth. There wasn’t a day that went by that Steve wished he could be taller, stand straighter and have some fucking meat on his bones. “It’s not like women were lining up to ask me out. And when I became—” he gestured at his body, “— _this_ , no one saw… _me_.”

Tony clapped his hands, then rubbed them together. “Looks like we gotta polish your skills, old man.” 

“Or find someone that has similar interests.”

Both Steve and Tony jumped, unaware that their conversation was overheard. They turned around, only to see Natasha smirking. 

“Jesus Christ!” Tony took in in a deep breath. “Where the hell did you come from?!”

Natasha shrugged, taking a few steps closer. “Flirting won’t be a problem if you have something in common. What might make it difficult is being Captain America.”

Before Tony was able to comment on how he was rudely ignored, Steve sighed.

“You’re tellin’ me. I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve been… _propositioned_.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “To be fair, your suit does great things for your ass.”

Natasha swatted his shoulder as Steve rolled his eyes.

“I don’t really care what other people do,” he said. “But I’d like something that’ll last longer than a night… or an hour.”

“And that’s understandable,” Natasha agreed. “It’s just gonna take some time and effort to find that person, if and when you’re ready.”

“Just keep us posted, alright?” Tony punched Steve’s shoulder. “Don’t want anyone messin’ with our favorite Star Spangled Man.”

Although Steve rolled his eyes, he was relieved that his team—his _friends—_ were there for him.


	4. Chapter 4

Today was going to be the day, god damn it. 

Bucky drummed his fingers against the counter. He was manning the store alone today, not that he minded completely. He knew that Benny and Teresa’s majors—engineering and political science, respectively—would monopolize their attention during midterms, so Bucky allowed the college students to take a week and a half off of work. He also promised to do the same for finals. Benny and Teresa’s eyes shone in admiration as they gripped Bucky in their embrace.

“Thanks, _dad,_ ” Benny said, grinning. “You’re the best!”

“We’ll make you proud!” This was the first time Bucky had seen Teresa so _emotional._

“Yeah, yeah.” Bucky patted both of their backs, laughing softly. “Just use your time wisely. If I find out that you two spent time partying instead of keeping your noses in your books, you’ll be grounded.”

Although he was more than happy to give Benny and Teresa some time off, he hadn’t noticed how much of his work life had been filled with their presence until they were gone. Now, he was alone with his thoughts, unnerving himself slowly but surely. Bucky managed to convince himself to ask Steve out for a cup of coffee. That shouldn’t be too hard, right? It was just going to be a cup of coffee, and maybe they can get to know each other better. Even if nothing came from it (aside from sheer embarrassment), at least Bucky could say he tried.

By the time Steve came in at his usual time, however, Bucky’s heart leaped into his throat. Steve’s smile was the only thing in the world. Everything else could melt away.

 _Fuck_. He was going to try to romance Captain America.

“Hey, Steve,” Bucky said as he willed his hands to stop shaking. “How’s your morning going so far?”

_You got this, Barnes. Nice and easy._

Steve cocked his head to the side, still smiling. “Well, went on a morning jog, got some breakfast with a friend. Not sure what I’m gonna do after… you know.”

Bucky nodded quietly. _Now what?_

“Well, there’s a lot of stuff in New York,” he said. “I’m sure you could find _something_.”

“Oh, yeah?” 

God, why was Steve Rogers blessed with such a sweet and thick-as-honey voice? 

“If there’s so much here,” Steve began. “Could you suggest something?”

_This is it, Barnes. Just ask._

His mouth was going dry, and a part of him wanted to just backpedal. It’s not like Steve would accept his offer, right? 

_You’ll regret not taking this chance._

“Yeah,” he said weakly. Bucky cleared his throat. Since when did the room get so unbearably hot? “Next time you’re free, we could get some coffee?”

Steve didn’t say anything. He just stared back, eyebrows raised and a rosy tint spreading from ear to ear. 

“I-I, umm…” he rubbed the back of his neck. “We—”

“—I’m sorry!” Bucky’s chest tightened. He fucked up. He fucked up _tremendously._ “You don’t… just forget I asked, okay?”

“No, wait.” Steve’s voice went soft as he took in a deep breath. “I… I’d like that.”

This had to be a dream. Bucky was still in bed, sound asleep and alone. 

“You mean that,” he asked carefully. “I-If you do, we… I just,” Bucky swallowed thickly. “I want to get to know you.”

“Yeah. Coffee sounds nice.” 

“Um, okay.” Bucky let out a sigh of relief, but his eyes widened.

“Right!” Bucky clapped his hands together. “The flowers!” He scrambled to assemble a bundle of tulips. After wrapping them together, Bucky held them out to Steve, who took them gently. As he punched in the total on the register, Bucky grabbed one of his business cards, scribbling his number on the back.

“Just call or text me when you wanna meet,” he said, trading the business card for a five dollar bill and four ones. “Or if you just wanna talk.”

“I will.” Steve tucked the business card in his wallet. “I’ll… I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.”

Once Bucky was alone in the store, he brought his hand to his cheek, pinching the skin as hard as he could, then gave himself a firm smack. But as he repeatedly smacked his face, Bucky realized that the room he was in wasn’t disappearing. He was actually awake, and he just asked Captain America on a date.

“I… I did it!”

* * *

Steve didn’t care too much about what everyone was doing—it was more or less the usual. Tony and Bruce were going over a side project that would be “revolutionary, yet entertaining.” Clint cycled through news networks before deciding that he could put on any movie, because Tony was filthy rich and could afford some trashy romance flicks—now he just had to find the perfect one. Meanwhile, Sam and Natasha traded flirtatious glances, as if no one else saw what was brewing between them.

So, Steve pulled out his phone. On his way to the tower, Steve had put in Bucky’s number, but waited until he was settled in to send a message. His thumbs hovered over the keyboard as he debated over what to send.

**Steve Rogers**

> Hey, Bucky. It’s Steve. Unless work calls in, I’m free on Sunday.  
> Is that okay with you?

“You’re planning a date, Rogers?” 

Steve jumped at Natasha’s voice, making him nearly drop his phone.

“A date?” Sam asked, louder than Steve would have liked. 

“You have a date?! I’m wounded!” Tony threw his hands up in the air, exasperated. “You could’ve told me!”

“Relax,” Clint said, flipping through channels. “Can’t you see we got a shy boy?”

Steve sighed. “Can you guys just… not?” 

“We’re just a little curious,” Bruce admitted, earning an “are you serious” look from Steve. “So what’s her name?”

“Uhh…” Steve bit his lower lip. “Well…”

He considered lying, but chose against it—he was a shit liar, to begin with. After fighting Nazis, aliens and a god, Steve didn’t think that confronting his team about his sexuality would be the most difficult task, mainly because he hoped it wouldn’t come up at all. Everyone was staring at him, curious. However, once he made eye contact with Tony, the gears began to turn.

“Oh. My. God!” Tony snapped his fingers. “It’s that flower shop guy, isn’t it?”

Steve’s cheeks burned. “Shut up, Tony!”

“Just tell me.” Tony walked over and slung his arm around Steve’s shoulders. “Am I right?”

Steve looked down and bit his lower lip to keep himself from talking. All Sam could do was laugh as he elbowed Steve, much to the blonde’s annoyance. He shoved both of them away, his ears bright red.

“I _knew_ it!” Tony pumped his fist in the air.

“Flower boy?” Bruce raised an eyebrow. “Care to share with the class?”

“Before we went to the cemetery, we picked up some flowers,” Tony explained. “And that man—with immaculate locks, by the way—was totally into Steve!”

Clint barked out a laugh. “I mean, who isn’t? Have you no eyes?”

“You guys, I’m right here.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. Before he could say more, he felt his phone buzzing in his hands. Steve turned away from the group, peeking at the message.

**Bucky**

> Sunday sounds great  
>  There’s a nice cafe near Prospect Park  
>  We can meet there at 10 am?  
> I’ll text you the address

“So,” Sam drawled. “What are you gonna say? You’re gonna answer, right?”

“Of course!” Steve kept his phone close to his chest, typing as quickly as his thumbs would let him. Despite his best efforts, he found it hard to stop smiling.

**Steve Rogers**

> That sounds great. See you then!

He looked up from his phone, to see his everyone looking at him expectantly. “What?”

“No wonder I couldn’t find you a date,” Natasha said, smirking. “I needed to expand the dating pool.”

“Well, if I need to make it clear…” Steve took in a deep breath. “I’m bi.”

He braced himself, expecting the worst—laughs, comments, assumptions. But there was nothing of the sort. If anything, his friends smiled.

“You guys,” he began. “I take it you aren’t surprised?”

“Steve,” Sam said, smiling. “You basically flirted with me when we met.”

He opened his mouth to deny it, but looking back, Steve knew what he was doing. His smile, his tone, his choice of words—everything about that morning was deliberate.

Tony snorted. “And you said you couldn’t flirt.”

“He most definitely can.”

Steve sighed in defeat. “You guys are the worst.

Clint waved his hand, dismissive. “Eh, but you love us.”

For better or worse, Steve does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> I know I said I'd post yesterday but some things had come up. I'll be posting the rest of the fic tonight and tomorrow. 
> 
> But yay! They're finally gonna go on a date y'all! Stay tuned for some cute shit up ahead! Please keep an eye out for updates and leave comments and kudos so I can water my crops! See y'all soon!


	5. Chapter 5

Bucky was thankful for the nice weather. The sun shone brightly in a mostly cloud-free sky, and a slight breeze rustled through the trees. Bucky stood in front of the cafe, waiting for Steve to arrive. When he woke up that morning, Bucky rolled around in his bed, giddy as a teenager. He looked through his closet, wanting to dress up a little, to make a good impression, wearing a black and blue floral shirt and dark jeans—the bottom hem rolled up to his mid-calf. His heart raced as he tugged at the collar of his button-up. 

He looked around, focusing on the mass of people crossing the street. Steve emerged from the crowd, giving Bucky a smile and a small wave once they made eye contact. He smoothed out his shirt before returning a smile.

“Hey, Steve.” Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets. “How are you?” 

“I’m doing good,” he beamed. 

Bucky took him in, his eyes traveling from Steve’s face to his shoulders, his chest, his arms. Steve Rogers, simply put, was the most handsome man he’d ever seen. He felt his face radiating with warmth. God, he had it bad.

“Um, let’s go in?” he said, motioning towards the door. “The coffee here’s pretty good, and so is the tea, if you’re not a coffee person.”

“I like a good cup of coffee.”

Relieved, they entered the cafe and walked over toward the line. The cafe was cozy, yet spacious. The colors ranged from reds, oranges, and yellows, giving off a warm, comfortable vibe. 

“Are you an espresso bar person,” Steve began. “Or a drip coffee person.”

“Huh.” Bucky’s mouth twisted as he thought over his preferences. “I think it depends. If I need to stay awake, I go with drip. What about you?”

“Generally speaking, I’m a drip coffee guy.” As they were called up to the register, Steve reached into his back pocket, ready to pull out his wallet. But as he was about to take it out, Bucky quickly took out a ten-dollar bill.

“I’m the one that asked you out,” Bucky reasoned. “So I’ll buy your coffee.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked. “I can pay if you want.”

Bucky shook his head. “It’s all good.”

After ordering their coffee, they walked over to an empty table. Bucky settled into his seat and brought his cup to his lips. He carefully took some sips and looked up at Steve, who stared back at him with curious eyes.

“I’ve been wondering, were you born and raised in New York?”

“Yeah, Brooklyn,” Bucky answered proudly. “I wouldn’t have it any other way. It’s changed a bit since I was a kid but it’s still my home.”

“I know what you mean,” Steve said wistfully. “A lot of things have changed. Even though parts of it are the Brooklyn I grew up with, it’s not the same. But like you said, it’s still home.”

They stayed like that for an hour, talking about the new things in Brooklyn. Then, they ventured off into their hobbies, the genres of films they enjoyed—typical first date questions. While they kept the conversation going, Bucky found himself becoming more and more enamored. He had an idea of who Captain America was, thanks to biographies and documentaries. But Steve Rogers was an extraordinary person in his own right. Steve was opinionated at how the country was being run and worried about the safety of the American public. He voiced concern for the underserved and thought of possible solutions. He was more emotional than Bucky thought—Steve sometimes teared up at movies and wasn’t ashamed of it. Although he wasn't one for reading in the past, Steve said recently that it really helped him feel more grounded. 

Meanwhile, Bucky shared his experiences as a sergeant. His time in the army was valuable, and he wouldn’t have changed a thing, despite losing his left arm. The people he met—his brothers in arms—were still in contact, so when he was ready, he would meet up with them, maybe grab a bite to eat and share what they were doing with their lives.

All in all, both Steve and Bucky got to know a great deal about each other. And yet, Bucky sensed some tension as they cleared out their table and left the cafe. Steve’s lips were tightly shut, and his eyes shifted from side to side.

“Listen, Buck. Before we, um, go on, I need to tell you something,” Steve said. “I really value honestly. I… I’m Ca—”

“—I know.” Bucky smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. “I mean, I didn’t know at first. My co-workers had to point it out.”

As Steve let out a small “oh,” Bucky frowned. Steve quickly shook his head. 

“No, I’m… glad?” He tilted his head in thought. “It’s just nice to be a normal guy, for once.”

In a way, Bucky understood. When he came back to Brooklyn, people stared at his arm more than him. When people looked at Steve Rogers, they saw Captain America instead of a guy from Brooklyn. It wasn’t nearly on the same level, but the feelings of inadequacy were the same.

“Hey, let’s walk a bit.” Bucky motioned for Steve to follow him. “We could go around Prospect Park. You could tell me about what it was like to only have boiled food.”

To Bucky’s surprise, Steve snorted. “Didn’t anyone ever tell you to respect your elders?”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Alright, old man. Settle down—we don’t want you havin’ a fit.”

Steve scowled, playfully smacking Bucky’s shoulder.

It felt good to be normal.

* * *

**Bucky**

> Hey! I had a lot of fun today  
>  Maybe we could grab some dinner next time?  
>  Is next Friday okay?

**Steve Rogers**

> Dinner sounds great. Do you have a place in mind?

**Bucky**

> I know this low-key Italian place. Is that okay with you?

**Steve**

> Perfect.  
>  Maybe I could pick you up around 7?

**Bucky**

> Yeah, I’ll text you my address. See you then!

Bucky grinned like a child, to the point where his cheeks started to hurt. But he could stop the happiness bubbling from his chest. With a content sigh, Bucky went through his contacts, stopping when he reached his sister, Becks. He debated whether to text or call, but ultimately decided to call and see if she would pick up. As the phone rang, Bucky tapped his fingers against his thigh.

“Hey, Bucky-boo!”

Bucky rolled his eyes at the nickname. “Hey, Becks. How’re you?”

“Doin’ great, actually! What about you?” she asked. “Any reason for calling?”

“What, I can’t call my favorite sister?”

Becks snorted. “Don’t let Bernie or Bobby hear that. They might come after you in your sleep.”

“Like you guys could take me down.” Bucky let out a small laugh. “Anyways, I got some news. I think you wanna sit down.”

“Good news, or bad news?”

“Definitely good news.” He took in a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I… I met someone. We’re going out for dinner.”

“Oh my god!” Becks shouted. “Oh my  _ god _ ! That’s great!”

“Yeah, yeah it is.” Bucky’s mouth twisted. “I just got one problem—I’m so fuckin’ nervous. We’re going to Donatello’s.”

“Bucky, you can hold a conversation and you have a normal sense of fashion,” Becks said dryly. “I’m sure whatever you do, he’ll be into it. I really don’t know what you’re worried about.” 

Bucky sighed. “You don’t get it. It’s really complicated.”

“Oh, honey.” Bucky’s eyes widened at his mother’s voice. “I’m sure you’ll be fine.”

“Am I on speaker?!” His voice broke at the end, hitting an unusually high pitch. To his horror, he heard the rest of the family shouting their “hello’s” on the other end.

“It’s gonna be fine,” his father said. “As long as you’re a gentleman.”

“Do you already have an outfit picked out?” his mother asked.

“Yes, ma. I’m perfectly capable of dressing myself.”

His sisters cackled. 

“Does that mean you don’t remember your goth phase,” Bobby teased.

“Okay, first of all,” Bucky began. “It was punk, not goth. Second, I  _ rocked _ that look and you know it!”

“Whatever,” Bernie said. “You were still a dork.” 

“ _ Anyways _ , I’ll let you guys do… whatever you were doing. I just felt like sharing some news.”

“And what delicious news it is!” Becks said. “Keep us posted, okay?”

“Okay. Talk to you later, Becks.”

As he hung up, Bucky sank back into the couch. He was excited and terrified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello! 
> 
> Sorry the updates are slower than intended--depression is a pain to deal with. But anyhow, I hope you're enjoying these two dorks in love. Stay tuned for more cutesy couple shenanigans!


	6. Chapter 6

Bucky stared at his reflection, going through some final touches. Beard? Trimmed. Hair? Braided and half up. Outfit? Relatively normal: light-blue button-down shirt, black jeans, and a brown cardigan. He smacked his cheeks lightly in a feeble attempt to still his accelerating heart if for a moment.  _ Relax _ , he reminded himself.  _ You’ve reached the second date. Just play your cards right and you’ll be fine. _ As he double-checked that he had everything—phone, keys, and wallet—Bucky’s phone buzzed. 

**Steve Rogers**

> I’m outside!

Bucky smiled, then shoved his phone back into his pocket. He locked the door behind him and nearly rushed down the stairs.  _ Keep your cool, keep your cool _ . As he walked through the front door, he spotted Steve across the street, waving at him.

“Oh my god,” Bucky whispered. Steve Rogers in a brown leather jacket on his bike was definitely one of the hottest things he’d seen in years. As Steve reached back and opened up the compartment, Bucky slowly approached, still reeling from the sheer sight of the stunning man before him.

“Cat got your tongue, Barnes?” Steve asked, his smile turning into a playful smirk. “You’re not planning on standing there all night, are you?” He pulled out a spare helmet and tossed it over to Bucky, whose delayed reaction made him nearly drop it.

“Hope that fits okay. If not, we could trade.”

Bucky stared at the helmet, still in a daze, before putting it on. It took a few seconds to adjust, but he ultimately deemed the helmet to be a good fit.

“I think we’re good here,” he said. Steve smiled and patted the space behind him. As Bucky settled onto the seat, his face blushed furiously. He held up his hands, barely touching Steve’s sides.

“You’re gonna want to hold on.” He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, clinging on tightly as Steve revved up the bike. 

Traffic wasn't terrible as they drove over to Queens. As Bucky tightened his grip, his heart pounded so loudly that he could hear it thrumming in his ears. He wanted this to last longer than it did, to be this close. Unfortunately, they arrived at their destination and parked the bike a few blocks away from the restaurant.

“So tell me about this place,” Steve said as they started walking. 

“I hope you’re hungry, because while Donatello’s is small,” Bucky began. “They serve a five-course dinner.” 

“You’re lucky I got a high metabolism,” Steve said, snickering.

“Given that you’re in great shape, that doesn’t surprise me.”

“Is that your way of saying you think I’m good looking?”

Bucky rolled his eyes, then smiled. “If I have to answer that, then yes. You’re really,  _ really _ handsome.”

“Good,” Steve teased. “Because I think you’re gorgeous.”

And that made Bucky stop in his tracks. He took in a deep breath. “You really think so?”

"Yeah, I do."

While Donatello's wasn't packed, they were definitely busy. Bucky and Steve were seated near the back, mainly at Steve’s request. The last thing he wanted was for someone to pass by, recognize him, and ruin the date with flashing lights. As they settled into their seats, their waiter went over the wine list and the specials for the evening. After asking for two glasses of water, Steve and Bucky picked up the menus, deciding what to order.

“Sorry for having us sit back here,” Steve said. “I just—”

“It’s okay.” Bucky reached out, placing his hand on top of Steve’s. “I get it. It can’t be easy, doing what you do.  If you didn’t have to work,” he began. “What would you be doing?”

“After high school, I took several classes," Steve answered, a wistful glint in his eyes. "But I enjoyed painting the most. I think I would’ve kept up with it.”

“Is your favorite medium?”

“It’s been a while,” Steve admitted with a sad chuckle. “Drawing’s easier. When I didn’t paint, I found a bench in Prospect Park and sketched people walking by. Now, it’s hard to make time for it.”

“If you need a model,” Bucky said slowly. “Maybe I could pose for you?”

Steve straightened up in his seat and for a moment, Bucky thought he said something wrong. He searched for some kind of hint in Steve’s face, trying to figure out the meaning behind his expression. Steve was almost focused elsewhere, his eyes distant. But as soon as Bucky was about to speak up, Steve’s gaze met his and there was a spark in those blue eyes that made Bucky’s heart skip a beat.

“I’d like that,” he said. “I’d like that a lot.”

Dinner was sickeningly sweet. As their food came, both discussed the childish dreams they had in their youth. In particular, Bucky shared his embarrassing memory of starting a shoegaze band college while Steve talked about all the things he wanted to be, from a fireman to the president. Between the memories they shared, Bucky and Steve took turns feeding one another, offering food off their forks. It was a simple gesture, but it didn’t stop Bucky from feeling completely smitten and giddy. 

When their date was coming to a close, Bucky invited Steve up to his apartment, to which Steve eagerly accepted. As they climbed up the stairs, their hands reached out to the other. The exploration of each other’s bodies was slow, almost hesitant. They fumbled their way up, Bucky struggling to get out his damn keys. Once he stuck the key into the lock, he turned the knob fast, nearly throwing open the door. Their lips brushed together, their kisses gentle before they gained confidence. However, as Bucky kicked the door close, Steve pulled away.

“Wait,” Steve said, panting and trying to catch his breath. “Just, it’s…” He hung his head down, ashamed. “It’s been a while. I haven’t, haven’t been close to someone in—”

“Hey, look at me.” Bucky cupped Steve’s face and stroked his cheeks with his thumbs. Steve slowly adjusted his gaze, staring back at Bucky with furrowed brows. “We can take it slow, okay?”

Steve melted at Bucky’s words, at his patience. He nodded and let out a shaky sigh.

“Thank you,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss against Bucky’s cheek. “That said, I don’t wanna stop kissing you.” His lips traveled along Bucky’s jaw, one swift kiss after another until he rested by Bucky’s ear. He nibbled on his earlobe, earning a low groan and a small ‘ _ fuck’ _ from Bucky.

“H-How about we go to my room,” Bucky asked as his breathing hitched. “We can just— _ ah— _ keep doin’ this.”

“Lead the way.”

With a toothy grin, Bucky grabbed Steve by the wrist, pulled him through the doorway and onto the bed, content that they weren’t going to sleep alone.


	7. Chapter 7

Sunlight filtered through the curtains. As Steve emerged from sleep, he remembered the events from the previous night--the date, the conversation, and making out in Bucky’s bed. One of Steve’s favorite things from last night was being held in Bucky’s arms as their legs tangled together. Being the leader of a team wasn’t terrible, but Steve found that at times, he just wanted to let go, to relax. His mind was constantly focused on missions and his teammates, but when he came home from another day-in-the-life-of Captain America, it was to an empty home.

He shifted around in the sheets, noticing that he was alone in bed. As he sat up, he could hear some rustling coming from the kitchen and what sounded like music. Steve stretched with a yawn, then got out of bed. The wooden floor was cold against his feet, not that he minded. He left the bedroom, quietly opening the door. From where he stood, he could vaguely make out what Bucky was listening to. Sam introduced him to Marvin Gaye, and Steve committed Gaye’s voice to memory. The closer he got to the kitchen, he realized that Bucky was singing along as he cooked.

“ _ Just call my name, I'll be there in a hurry,” _ he sang. _ “You don't have to worry! _ ”

Bucky was chopping some vegetables, gesturing with the knife as he continued to sing with enthusiasm. “ _ ‘Cause baby there ain’t no mountain high enough! _ ”

Steve chuckled, hoping that Bucky wouldn’t hear him over the music. If he played his cards right, this could be his life. It didn’t have to be if it turned out that he and Bucky weren’t a good match. But Steve really wanted it to.

“ _ Ain’t no valley low eno _ \--oh.” Bucky quickly placed the knife on the cutting board and smoothed out his apron. “Hey, you.”

“Hey.” Steve flashed Bucky a smile. “Whatever you’re making, it smells amazing.”

Bucky shrugged. “It’s just a frittata. Hope that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay. Can I help?”

“Just sit your pretty self at the table. I made some coffee, so feel free to help yourself.“ Steve obliged, seeing that a mug was left out for him--a sweet gesture. As he poured a cup for himself, Bucky put the chopped vegetables into the heated cast iron skillet. 

“I was wondering…” Bucky said. “Would you wanna go to the Met with me?”

“Sure,” Steve answered. “When do you wanna go?”

Bucky grabbed a spatula. “Hmmm… maybe we could go there tomorrow? I mean, I get if that’s too soon.”

“Tomorrow’s fine.” Steve down at the table and took a sip from his mug. “Aside from work, what are your plans for today?”

“It’s gonna sound silly, but my co-workers and I have dinner once a month.” Bucky smiled softly. “Teresa suggested it for ‘team-building purposes.’ If it weren’t for them, I’d be running the place by myself, so it’s actually pretty nice. What about you?”

“I got volunteered to visit one of the children’s hospitals with Tony and Que--um, Spiderman.” Steve cleared his throat. “When Tony told me, I figured that it wouldn’t be so bad--it’s great actually.”

“I’m glad. I’m sure the kids love seein’ you guys.”

“I love seeing them too.” Steve smiled, though it was laced with a hint of sadness. “I hate that they’re sick, but if going makes them smile, it’s worth it.”

As Bucky continued cooking, Steve sat back in his seat. At some point, he told Tony that the Steve Rogers that wanted to settle down and have a family died in the ice. But after spending some time with Bucky, he wondered if he could have that, or at least hope for it. He hadn’t felt such tranquility in so long. Once breakfast was finished and they both ate until satisfied, Steve gathered his things, ready to suit up.

“I’ll text you, okay?” Steve planted a kiss on Bucky’s cheek.

Bucky smiled, then gave Steve a quick peck on the lips. “Okay.”

* * *

Work that day was busier than usual, not that Bucky minded. Several people came in and out, but what he didn’t anticipate was a last minute large order of bouquets. As he looked over their inventory and checked the schedule for their next shipment, Bucky chewed on his lower lip.

“Please,” the customer said quietly. “I’m in a bind, and I went to four other places.”

“What’s the occasion?” Bucky asked.

The customer’s mouth twisted as he mumbled. “M-My sister’s engagement party.”

If it weren’t rude to do so, Bucky would have taken the customer by the shoulders and shake some sense into him. If it were his own sisters’ engagement party, orders would have been placed  _ months _ in advance for everyone’s sanity and to have enough time to fall on backup plans if things didn’t work out.

But, Bucky was resourceful.

“Okay, look.” Bucky took out a notepad and pen from behind the counter. “Give me the number of bouquets needed. Is there a theme?”

“E-Eighteen bouquets. Um… I think they wanted blues and purples. Tha--”

“Oh, don’t thank me yet.” Bucky took out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. “I’m gonna check on a few things first, and if it all goes well, it can be done.”

He pressed the call icon and brought the phone to his ear, waiting through the dial tones.

“Dum Dum, it’s me.”

“Hey, Sarge!” Bucky rolled his eyes at Dum Dum’s loud voice. “What’s up?”

“I need to call in a favor. Does your cousin still work at that flower shop in Jackson Heights?” 

“Yeah, why?”

“Can you place an order for me? I got my hands tied.” Bucky tapped his fingers against the counter. “I need nine bouquets of purple flowers. The important part is that they’re as uniform as possible, and I need them in two days.”

“Alright, I’ll pass that along. Is the order gonna be under your name?”

“No, it’s uh--”

“Ryan,” the customer said. “Ryan de la Cruz.”

Bucky nodded. “Ryan de la Cruz is gonna pick it up.”

“Okay. Ryan de la Cruz, nine purple bouquets. Got it. I’ll tell him in a few minutes and give him your number.”

“Thanks, Dum Dum. I owe you.” Bucky pulled up his calendar. “If you’re free next week, we can grab a drink. I got some news to tell you anyway.”

“I’ll let you know! Talk to you later!”

After Dum Dum hung up, Bucky heaved a sigh of relief and turned back towards Ryan. “Okay, so here’s the deal. I can give you nine blue bouquets tomorrow, and you can pick up the rest in Jackson Heights.” He clicked the pen and scribbled down the name of the other flower shop and ripped the page off, holding out to Ryan.

“Thank you,” he said breathlessly as he took the paper. “Thank you so much!”

Bucky shrugged. “Count yourself lucky. I have three younger sisters, and if they found out I pulled this stunt, they’d kill me.”

“Yeah, my sister is that way, too.” Ryan folded the paper and tucked it into his wallet, trading it for his credit card. “At this point, I don’t care how much it costs.”

“Well, each bouquet is $12 so…” Bucky punched in the total. “Plus tax, that brings you $112.”

Without hesitation, Ryan surrendered his card for Bucky to charge. After multiple thank you’s, Ryan left the store, seemingly lighter than when he arrived.

“That was nice of you,” Teresa said. “You didn’t really have to do all of that.”

“I know.” Bucky crossed his arms over his chest. “But he seemed really stressed out. Besides, we gain a profit, and his sister isn’t gonna kill him.”

“I guess.” 

“So, did you two figure out what we’re doing for dinner?”

Benny beamed. “I won the coin toss, so we’re doing hotpot.”

“I know I’ve asked this, time and time again, but Benny,” Teresa said, exasperated. “What the hell is wrong with you? It’s fucking hot and you wanna eat soup.”

“Hey, hotpot wasn’t my first idea, it was pho.”

Bucky let out a cackle as Teresa turned around and flicked Benny’s forehead.

“Look,” Bucky said. “You two better be on your best behavior. Otherwise, I’m not even gonna consider increasing this to twice a month.”

“Yes,  _ dad _ .”

As Bucky turned back to the counter, his phone started buzzing. When he pulled it out, he noticed a message from Steve. He quickly looked at it and smiled. 

**Steve Rogers**

> Just finished up here at the hospital  
>  Tony thought I should send this

The picture quality was immaculate, to the point where Bucky guessed that Tony must have taken the picture with his fancy-schmancy tech. It was a simple selfie of Steve, Tony, and Spiderman. Even though Spiderman’s face was covered, he made peace signs with both hands. Steve looked a little different as Captain America, not that it was a bad different. He seemed more professional, and somehow, nobler. But his smile was still radiant. Bucky zoomed in on the picture and cropped it. 

He loved his new phone background.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! The story's wrapping up. You're probably wondering, "Hey, why is this rated E?" Fear not, dear reader, the smut is coming up in the next chapter!
> 
> I'll see y'all in a few hours.


	8. Chapter 8

Steve picked up Bucky the next morning so that they could go to the Met together. Although he was embarrassed to admit it, Steve hadn’t been there since before the war. As they entered the museum, Bucky thought it was absolutely endearing that Steve immediately wandered among the art, looking over each piece with reverence and admiration. By the time they went through each exhibit, several hours had passed and even then, Steve wasn’t fully satisfied until he went to the information desk. Bucky stayed back, checking his phone for messages. Thankfully, Teresa reported that Ryan picked up the blue bouquets and was on his way to get the rest from Dum Dum’s cousin. 

“Everything okay?” Steve asked as he rejoined Bucky.

“Yeah,” Bucky said, putting away his phone. “It was just something work-related. I’ll tell you about it later. Did you get what you needed from the info desk?”

Steve smiled. “Y’know, because I technically didn’t die, I’m getting retroactive pay. A lot of retroactive pay.”

“Mhmm. And?”

“You’re looking at a new patron of the Met.”

Bucky’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit. How much are you donating?”

“That’s my little secret, Steve said slyly, making Bucky roll his eyes. 

“I guess you’re allowed a few secrets.” Bucky’s voice was filled to the brim with sarcasm. “So long as you’re not a punk about it.”

“Whatever, jerk,” Steve quipped. They both stared at each other, then laughed as they left the Met.

The next few weeks carried out like a dream. Although Bucky saw Steve less at the flower shop, they saw more of each other on the weekends and on some weeknights. They continued to explore New York—not that it was much of an expedition for Bucky. However, he found joy in watching Steve experiencing 21st century New York. Movie and tv show marathons were frequent, thanks to the neverending supply of recommendations. But what Steve looked forward to the most was Coney Island.

“The first time I rode the Cyclone, I threw up,” Steve recounted with a shit-eating grin. “Wanna try it out?”

Bucky nodded, so they both stood in line. As Steve lined up for a second round, Bucky emptied his stomach. But he didn’t regret a moment of the thrilling rise and fall.

* * *

Their clothes were thrown about in a matter of minutes as they entered Bucky’s apartment. They went back and forth between unbuttoning their shirts and undressing one another Their kisses grew desperate—mouths open, tongues lapping against each other. And yet, in their desperation, Bucky remembered what Steve had said before. Up until now, he was cautious, making sure that he didn’t cross any boundaries, breaching the trust they built. He managed to control himself and pull away from their filthy kisses.

“Steve,” he said. “What do you wanna do?”

The blonde thought on that for a moment before cupping Bucky’s face. “I want you to touch me, and I want to touch you.” He kissed Bucky, nipping at his lower lip. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Steve,” Bucky breathed out. “You’re really somethin’ else.”

He lifted Steve up in his arms, allowing Steve to wrap his legs around his waist. Through the fabric of their jeans, their erections were aching, searching for the other. Once they got to his room, Bucky laid Steve down, grinding his hips against him, earning a low moan. Steve's hands worked deftly, unbuckling Bucky’s belt and undoing the buttons on his jeans. Likewise, Bucky worked on Steve’s pants, eager to touch, to please. Steve lifted his hips, helping Bucky along as he peeled down Steve’s jeans and boxers. As his cock sprang free, precome leaking from the tip, Bucky’s mouth watered.

“Holy shit.” Bucky stared at Steve, from his blushing face to his chiseled abdomen. He must have been staring too intensely, since Steve looked away, almost bashful.

“You’re still wearing too much,” he said. “Lose the pants already. I wanna see you.”

Bucky nodded, tugging at his jeans and shucked them down, kicking them off before joining Steve on the bed. Their lips reconnected as their hands roamed, freely inspecting the layout of each other’s bodies. 

“ _ Stevie _ ,” Bucky said, between gasps as Steve worked his mouth down to his neck. “How do you wanna do this?” 

Steve continued to suck on Bucky’s neck as he groped Bucky’s ass, kneading in circles before pulling him closer. He began to grind his hips, finding utter bliss at the heat as their shafts met.

“Like this,” he murmured against Bucky’s skin. 

Bucky gulped and nodded, slipping his hand behind Steve to cradle his head. Steve sank his teeth into Bucky’s shoulder as they found a rhythm. As their hips rocked together, Steve’s hand traveled down Bucky’s body until he reached between them, wrapping his hand around their throbbing cocks. Moans and grunts escaped from them as Steve pumped them together, smearing their precome over their tips.

“F-fuck, don’t stop,” Bucky gasped. “M’gettin’ close.”

“M-Me, too.”

Their pace quickened as Steve’s hand moved faster, the sound of their slick shafts and their hitched breaths filling the room. 

“Come with me,” Steve pleaded, his eyes locked with Bucky’s.

Bucky bit his lower lip and nodded. “Look— _ h-haa— _ look at me when you come.”

After a few more thrusts, Steve’s eyes watered from pure pleasure, wave after wave overwhelming him. Bucky followed soon after, mouth slacked open as he kept his gaze on Steve’s face. Ropes of come splattered against their stomachs and dribbled onto Steve’s hand. They took a few moments to catch their breath, both still in a daze.

“Steve,” Bucky said, gulping. He brought his hand to Steve’s face. “I… I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Steve nuzzled his face into Bucky’s palm. “We gotta clean up.”

“Mmm, later.” Bucky yawned. “We can shower in the morning.”

“Okay. M’comfortable anyways.”

They stayed close to each other throughout the night, drifting into uninterrupted sleep. If that was what heaven was like, they would gladly worship each other every day. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're near the end! Thank you for sticking with me so far. The last chapter is an epilogue, and it'll be posted later this afternoon. See you then!


	9. Chapter 9

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Steve and Bucky move in together after a few months. Steve had dinner at the Barnes’ household and was mercilessly interrogated by Bucky’s younger sisters. Bucky’s mother was constantly putting more food on Steve’s plate while bickering with Bucky, annoyed and offended that she didn’t know her son was dating  _ Captain America _ . Likewise, the Avengers were relentless with teasing Bucky when he came over to meet them. Although they were both embarrassed, Steve and Bucky recognized that this was a vital step for them to meet each other’s families. 

But there was one more person Steve wanted Bucky to meet.

They arrived at the cemetery a little before noon. Luckily, the weather was perfect. The sun shone brightly and there was a light breeze that rustled through the trees. Bucky followed behind Steve, who lead him down the path he walked so many times before. Once Steve stopped in his tracks, he let out a long breath.

“Hey, Peggy. It’s been a while.” Steve moved over to give Bucky some room to step forward. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.” 

“Hi,” Bucky said quietly. “I’m Steve’s boyfriend, Bucky. I’ve heard a lot of great things about you.”

“Things are really great,” Steve continued. “We moved in together last week and… I’m thinking about retiring. I have someone in mind to take up the mantle. Sam is amazing, and I know he’ll be the Captain America the world needs.”

“I managed to talk him into it.” Bucky chuckled. “From what I’ve heard, you’d agree that Steve needs a nice, long vacation.”

“We don’t know where we’re going yet, but we’ll figure that out.”

They stood in silence for a few minutes, allowing themselves to listen to their surroundings. Cars were driving by, and people were well on their way, going about their daily lives. Steve never would have thought he could come back from a war and live out his days, content—something he knew Bucky understood all too well. In their silence, Steve reached out, taking Bucky’s hand in his, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m ready when you are,” he said. 

“Okay.” Bucky smiled at Steve. “Did you still want to meet up with Sam today?”

“Yeah. I...“ Steve bit his lower lip. “It’s okay for me to be selfish, right?”

“Steve, it’s more than okay. You deserve to live out your life the way you want to.” He brought Steve’s hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss. “If they really need you—and I mean, really,  _ really _ need you, they know where to find you. But until then, just take it easy.”

Steve nodded. “Okay. Let’s go. Sam’s probably wondering where we are.”

As they left the cemetery, their hands swayed in a steady rhythm. There was no need to rush to their destination. The future would still be there for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for sticking through this fic with me! I want to especially thank the mods for the Shrunkyclunks Big Bang for hosting such a fun event!
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, please leave a comment/kudos! I've written other stucky works, so feel free to check 'em out. And if you'd like, you can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/queerestblues) and [tumblr](https://marvelling-you.tumblr.com).
> 
> Have a good one and see y'all soon!


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